Worth The Fight
by Fourleggeddog
Summary: Ben, has the title of the 'strongest Viral' But how does he see himself? The weak link. The lone wolf. When Ben is convinced he has nothing left to contribute, something happens. A miracle? A tragedy? It depends on where you are standing. The situation spirals into a journey, the question becomes will Ben trek it? It is Worth the Fight?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, welcome to my new Virals Adventure. If you follow any of my other Fics you'll know I've been very unfaithful with the updates. This is the reason why, this has felt so alive recently all my energy has been poured into it. Please remember to Review, I love reading the comments it provides that extra push to continue the story. I have a general idea of where to go with this, but a single comment could take me in a new exciting direction. I wasn't going to post this until I updated some of the other Fics but what can I say here we are. As thanks to my readers I will be updating every single one of my other Fics over the week. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1- Strange addiction

I rolled the unlit match between my fingers. _Shit_. I stared at the taunting green head. The power behind the unlit tip made my head burn in an unexplainable longing. My fingers itched to light it, to watch it burn. To watch the flames dance without rules, without control. _No I will not give in._ I slipped the match back into the old box and tucked it away. Within an instant I was pulling the cardboard prison back open. My fingers were pulled towards the sea of unlit matchsticks. _No._ I clenched my fists tightly, causing the flimsy material to bend. I raised it without really meaning to and leaned over Sewee. It would be so easy. Drop the box and ride the dark wave's home. _So_ _easy_. The mind is willing but the body is weak. The more I resisted, the more I craved it. I pulled out a single match knowing this time I wouldn't fight it. I dragged the match across Sewee's rough railing. The tip broke free in powerful eagerness. I held a finger above the match and felt its heat tickle my calloused skin. I grasped the end of the match as the fire swept closer to me. I heard the taunts and jeers locked inside the red glow. I watched the untamable blaze devour the stick. The heat seemed to suffocate all the oxygen that was laced near my fingers. I felt a horribly conflicted pain eat away at my heart. I felt angry and defeated all the time. I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop it, but God did I feel it. Watching the flame burn itself out threw my stomach into knots of unrecognizable feelings. The fire suffocated and died as I threw the match overboard. Its ashen state dissolved rather than making a sound as it was lost to the black water. I reached and lit another before I even recognized what I was doing. However, I knew exactly _why_ I was doing it. It's no secret. Why deny it to myself? Victoria. I love her. I stared at the powerful light emitting from the single match. The fierce red orange color was just like her. I recognized the way the colors held their own, while all the same dancing together into something bigger. Yes, just like her. She was so much more than one color. Victoria was something big, something special on the outside; to the unknowing eye she would seem whole. Underneath it all if you had the patience, you could delve into every layer of her. Victoria was not just one emotion, she was all of them. She wasn't just one color, but rather a picture of them all coming together. I held the match above the palm of my and dropped it. I didn't even recoil as the hot blaze chewed at my hand. It didn't stop at my flesh. The fire worked its way down to my bone and into my blood. It filled me with its power only for the purpose of my own self destruction. I crushed the smoldering embers with a growl escaping from my lips. I didn't need to feel the pain the match was causing me, I felt enough without it. But the match was the key. I looked to the single match for strength. The power I felt wielding the match was tantalizing. I could light it whenever I pleased. I could stop the flames existence whenever I pleased. I could create and destroy. I had the power. I opened my clenched fist and looked at the broken match. It was snapped clear in half and the black tip was crushed. Flecks of the burnt material littered my palm, sticking to the coat of sweat. _Shit_. The lie made itself more present with every match I burnt. I have no power. I couldn't light the match with will of mind. The match had the power to ignite and burn. To create or destroy. I was just the hand it hid behind. I was weak compared to the match. But why, why am I so weak? Maybe if I wasn't so weak she would have chosen me. A small stabbing sensation prickled through my veins filling them with ice. There it was. The reason I was on Sewee alone with a box of matches. I knew where Tory was right now. She was with Jason. I think what hurt the most was how kind she was about it. She never brought him up or did that horrible,  
"My boyfriend this, my boyfriend that."

Not that it helped. As polite as Tory was she could never hide it from us completely. He made sure I knew she was his. I always knew when she was going out with him. He tore up our road every time he came to pick her up. Fast, furious, and absolutely infuriating. He honked his expensive horn and played his "hip" music. What really twisted the knife was how she just ate it up. She loved it. I didn't think her to be that kind of girl, the kind that would follow a boy around like a lost dog. Deep down my insides ticked in frustration. I would never treat her like a pet, but as an equal, even if I do believe in her more than I do in myself. My phone buzzed once startling me. My stomach jumped to my throat on its own will as I prayed it was Tor. I found myself doing it every time my phone called out. Not my first disappointment of the day.

 **MOM: Please come down to the house this weekend? And please drive I need the extra set of wheels- it's a surprise(:**

I wasn't going to object, I heard a little rumor from Hiram that Blondie was inviting the other Blond to dinner. The thought of being near that house made my stomach twist in agony. I could picture Whitney fluttering around the kitchen talking to Jason about how wonderful he is;

" _Oh Mr. Taylor you are the poster boy for this town blah blah blah."_  
I could picture Dr. Howard eating it up and Tory just smiling her beautiful smile.

I wanted all these stupid feelings to go away. I reached for the matches and grabbed three. I didn't even pause before scraping them across the edge. Three flames. Each burned evenly with a uniform color _. I have the power_. I pulled one close to my lips. I blew a single puff of air and extinguished its life. I repeated with the second and third match and threw them overboard. Turning the key I whipped Sewee around and brought her home.

I stepped out of my house and locked the front door. I had run home after docking Sewee so I could grab a few things and leave a note for Dad. Not that he'd really care. I jogged down to my car and unlocked it hastily. I was about to slide in when I heard a voice. Her voice.

"Ben!" Tory ran over excitedly.

"Tory." Curt. My heart fluttered to its own accord. I wanted to rip it out of my chest and pull it clean in half. That was bound to solve some of my problems?

She started talking about a Backyard BBQ/ outdoor movie Whitney was planning. I was trying to focus on her words, as much as I hated the fact she let herself be dragged around by the meathead I still loved talking to her. My eyes broke free as I trailed down her face. Suddenly I wasn't listening. Her lip was swollen and looked a bit bruised. Her hair was mused and tangled in places it didn't used to tangle. I felt a fire burn in my deepest pits. I tried to focus on her other features, like the sprinkling of freckles on her nose and how much I wanted to kiss them. Her ears and how they looked perfect for playful nips came to mind next. I tasted bile in my mouth as I imagined Jason biting her ears too rough and slobbering on her nose rather than gentle butterfly kisses. My thoughts became primal as I imagined Jason treating her roughly like she was a possession rather than a princess. Finally the buildup of hate was too much. My mouth started to move faster than my brain.

"Why aren't you with lover boy?"

Tory stopped dead. Her eyes seemed a little panicky but I didn't notice.

"I was with him earlier." She twitched slightly. I tried to get in the car and get away, God I tried so hard, but alas Ben the dumbass strikes again.

"What base did he get to? I'm guessing third since your lips look like they've been to hell and back, by hell I obviously mean Jason's southern tip-" Tory delivered a smack that stopped me mid-sentence.

"Do you really think I'm that kind of girl Ben? Just some whore who opens up for anyone?"

"Anyone who's bank account has more digits than a phone number." My mutter trailed off, regret trying to drown out my mistaken words but Tory heard them loud and clear.

She stared at me in utter disbelief. I started to shut down, but I sure as hell wasn't going to apologize. I hated myself. I hated Jason. I hated Tory's decision to be with Jason. Not that it was her fault, id kept my feelings buried too long and when I was ready to admit them to her, as well as myself it was too late. Hate is a funny feeling. Its eats you away at an alarming rate, but does it slow enough, that you spend every waking moment suffering. Hate takes over. I got into my car and closed the doors, locked the doors and blasted the radio. I didn't pull out of my driveway only because I couldn't. Tory was pounding on the window. Her delicate lips moved quickly, screaming, crying my name. I didn't listen, I couldn't hear her words. Demons choked out any safe thoughts I had as the car continued to sit patiently. The rumbling engine growled like the beast inside me. I closed my eyes and let my brain shut down. I felt dark thoughts push themselves forward. They lapped at my brain like the inky sea rolls onto the shore. My box of tricks formed clearly, the matches danced out in a spiral of fire and death. The holding place for unlit matches became a resting place, a coffin. I was bound to it, controlled by it. The lid slid shut, and I was its prisoner. Five minutes? Ten? Twenty? I don't know how long it was, but when I reopened my eyes she was gone.

I sped down the deserted road, easily 20 over the speed limit. Fast, fast enough I didn't have time to think, time to feel. All my focus was dedicated to staying on the road. Well… that was my goal. That's not how it works though. Even while tearing up a small single lane road I thought of her. Tory. Tory. Tory, oh God help me. I love her. Why can't I show her, why can't I tell her how I feel. Why am I so weak, why can't I give her what he can? Why. Why. Why. Ever been at war with yourself? That's what it sounds like. The constant bombs of self-hate, repetition and self-pity. Once you turn it on it's hard to shut off. Thoughts can be productive, thoughts can be rewarding, thoughts can be destructive, and thoughts can be scary. A single thought could cure cancer; a single thought could start a war. Thoughts load the gun and hand it to you. Actions pull the trigger.

Tears blurred my vision as my foot eased off the acceleration. Its funny how we make choices, every cell in my brain screamed at me to slam my foot down on the accelerator until I couldn't feel anything. But something deeper, something instinctive told me to slow down. Maybe it was my canine instincts that told me to slow down; maybe it was my canine instincts that told me she was there.

 **Uh-oh. Who or what do you think Ben saw? How do you feel about Tory and Jason, is there something fishy going on or is it just me? What does Myra have in store for Ben? How do you feel about the first chapter? Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back to chapter 2**  
 **I have a feeling this story is about to go in a new direction you weren't expecting. This is a shorter chapter, but I promise longer ones to come. Please remember to review!**

Chapter 2- Unrecognized Connections

I saw her the same time my mind reacted. There was no pause, nor hesitation, just panic. I slammed on the brake and swerved the steering wheel. The car turned fast spinning and screeching its protest. I wasn't fast enough. I jerked forward, the hollow smack echoed through the car. I nearly emptied the contents of my stomach, as the figure previously darting across the road, rolled limply to a stop. I tried to unbuckle but my fingers shook with such a violent ferocity I couldn't free myself. Sucking in a much needed breath I calmed myself down momentarily. With one last push I heard the familiar click as the seatbelt slithered away from me. I wriggled out of the car and stepped off to the side of the road. I emptied my already empty stomach before I moved to the front of my car. My nerves were fried, I had never hit anything living before and I felt a sudden heavy dread I could never have imagined. Lying on the pavement was a large dog. She was beautiful. She had a large frame, but her bones showed everywhere. She was covered in cuts, scars and matted fur. Her left ear was badly torn, and she had a large gouge out of her shoulder- most likely from a fight with a coyote. She had no tags, or proof she belonged to someone. Her fur was light gray, spotted with smudges of black. I wasn't sure if they were from her wilderness adventures or her natural colors. All of her legs had white, but it varied on the quantity. Her back legs were mostly the spotted gray, while her front legs were mostly white. Her chest was the same dirty white, but splashed a foreign color. Red. Small rational thoughts quipped back and forth, like a ping pong ball, but it was hard to focus _. Ben that blood on her chest is dry, not fresh. Ben you only got the back half of her._ I felt my knees grow weak as I reached down. Her frail sides continued to rise and fall. My heart began to beat a little faster. On a whim I closed my eyes. I reached down till I felt the rubber band snap back. I opened my flaming eyes and reached out.

 _Are you ok?  
_

I felt the message bounce back. A bit discouraged I tried again, and one time latter before admitting this dog wasn't going to connect. I reached a cautious hand and placed it in front of her face. Normally I wouldn't be shoving my hands near a strange dog's muzzle, but with the edge flaring gave me I knew I would be able to retract in time. Her delicate almond sized eyes opened. I felt like I was looking into myself. One of her eyes was a stunning silver blue; the other was a milky chocolate brown. It wasn't the color that got to me it was what was underneath. I could feel the misery, the unwantedness she felt. Was I relating to her because I was part wolf, or because she was part me?

She whined lifting her head so she could lick my hand. I had just hit this poor dog, but she still was treating me with affection. I didn't deserve that... I deserved to be bitten and growled at. I don't deserve affection. Not from her, not from Tory. I ran my hand down her head and stopped at her neck. I scratched under her chin and she thumped her tail in a pattern less rhythm. My liquid gold eyes explored over her weak form, looking from damage I might have done. I knew I had only hit the back half of her, so I started looking there first. Her legs looked fine so I tried to coax her up. She howled in pain before settling back down on the rough concrete. I stepped away from her and put my hands on my head. My mouth was cotton dry and my heart was beating fast, even though I felt completely empty inside. I tried to think clearly about the situation but my brain was completely frazzled. Even the small whispers of rationality had ceased. I jogged over to the car and pulled my phone out. The most logical thing to do in this situation from where I was standing would be to call Tory. I struggled to do so considering how I had treated earlier in the hour. Deep down I convinced myself she wouldn't answer and that I had at least tried. I pulled up her number and hit the call button before I could talk myself out of it. It rang a couple times, and then I felt silly. I had just started to pull the phone away to hang up when I heard the line connect. _Oh shit._ Tory's voice was cold, but I heard her try to hide a small sniffle. I was feeling so numb the extra guilt didn't even faze me.

"Tory I need help."

"Is that so?" She was trying to keep her voice even but I could hear worry wiggle itself up.

"Tory oh my god it's entirely my fault I was driving too fast and I didn't see her, oh Tory I need you." I meant to repeat that I needed her help but my voice was to strangled I couldn't force more words out. The coldness in her voice melted away completely, my loyal little Tory was ready to help me. Even after I treated her like shit she just bounced back and buried the pain. She was guilty of doing this on multiple occasions, and it worried me she'd grow up to just let guys walk all over her. Guys like Jason.

"Ben, what happened? Tell me everything calmly."

"I was driving fast and a dog was trying to make it across the road and I swerved but still got her back half and she's over here on the concrete."

"Does she have tags?"

"No she is a stray for sure."

"Can you see visible indications of where you hit her?"

"No, I mean her legs look fine..."

"Ben go put pressure on her legs, if she cries or acts aggressively we will know she is not paralyzed."

I did what Tory said. Her almond eyes shot open at my touch and she whimpered out a mix of a growl and a cry. I removed my hands quickly and gave her a gentle head rub. I noticed her tail pick itself up slightly.

I updated Tory quickly. She continued questioning me.

"Is she bleeding out anywhere heavily?"

"No."

"Gosh you have to wonder why she's being so calm around you." Tory murmured quietly.

"Maybe it's because of our DNA, I'm also flaring right now, and that might be calming her down."

"Maybe." Tory was deep in though. I could almost see her chewing the already battered lip in frustration. But in another moment she was fully back into the situation asking me more questions.

"Where are you, is your car in the ditch, can you get her in, do you know a nearby vet, do you have money on you?"

I answered every question she threw my way, and by the time she hung up I had my car back on the road, the dog sprawled out on a Wando sweatshirt in the backseat, and I was driving more cautiously to the closest vet. I tried to avoid as many bumps as possible but on the back roads that was a difficult challenge. Every now and then she'd raise those gorgeous eyes and watch my movements. This was putting a damper on my plans to meet mom, not that she would mind. My thoughts wandered to the memories that caused all of this. I scoffed rolling my eyes imagining Jason hitting this dog instead of me. I knew without a doubt Jason wouldn't have even slowed down let alone cared about the fate of the animal. Some people are just truly sickening. When I saw the vet's office getting close I released my flare. My body shook in protest but thankfully recovered quickly. I heard the dog whimper quietly.

Pulling into a parking spot I gathered the crying dog into my arms and rushed inside, not even taking the time to lock the car.

 **Well it's safe to say Ben has made a mistake. General feelings after reading this? Was it really fair of Ben to call Tory and ask for her help? Why do you think the dog is acting so calm around Ben? Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Quince

I waited in the waiting room for hours. I got to see a variety of people wander in and out of the clinic, each with a different story. There was a Russian tortoise that needed medicine for an infection before he went off to college. And there was a cat that ate a large amount tape and was now having bowel issues. There was also a hamster that had had his foot cut off by the family's challenged son. I found it easy to get distracted in the small office. I imagined myself in each of the family's shoes. What would it be like to have a child getting ready to leave for college? Where would I keep rolls of tape hidden from my cat from now on? What therapist would I have to hire to get my son to stop attacking small animals with kitchen scissors?

The young vet tech stepped out of the emergency room and ruffled the papers safely attached to his clipboard.

"Mr. Ben Blue?"

"Yes." I replied standing up quickly.

"If you would, please follow me."

I followed the young vet through themain emergency room and into a smaller connecting room. The much older female vet approached me with a tired smile and held out her hand. I shook it quickly wanting to get on with the news.

"Mr. Blue both you and this dog are very lucky." She directed me to an empty chair, waiting for me to get situated before she continued. I was tired of sitting but complied anyways. She turned on the small machine and laid down an X-Ray.

The vet, whom told me I could address her as Dr. Lisien, pointed out multiple cracks in what appeared to be the dog's pelvic region.

"Alright Mr. Blue-"

"It's Ben." I interrupted her quickly, being called Mr. Blue got on my nerves.

"Ok Ben, what you see here is three distinct fractures to her pelvic bone. Luckily each fracture seems to be fairly clean; if the bone would have shattered we would have had real issues."

She paused and looked up at me to see if I was following. I nodded for her to continue.

"A full recovery is possible, but hardly likely."

"What do you mean?" I rubbed my clammy hands on my jeans.

"Well Ben a recovery of any degree is as much up to you as it is to her. If you don't give her 110% she won't be able to recover to her full potential, and even with all the help in the world she will likely have lasting effects from the injury. I have a video you can watch in my office about what you can do for her, while I fill out your paperwork."

"Wait me? Dr. can't you keep her and do your Dr. Magic? I don't have any materials at home for her."

"I'm sorry Ben but as of now she is your responsibility. However we cannot control your actions outside of this office."

"What about price? I haven't seen paperwork yet."

"Well yes of course there is a payment we will have to discuss, but luckily for you she is in no need for surgery currently. I must remind you that as she progresses that may change. Now I'm going to start working on that paperwork, would you be interested in watching the video, don't worry its free of charge." She gave me another small smile as I nodded weakly.

The video started with a click and a small woman in veterinarian gear began to speak.

"Pelvic fractures, what they are and what you can do. Pelvic fractures make up 25% of the fractures a vet will deal with in smaller animals. If a pelvic is put under enough trauma to crack, there will always be multiple fractures. Luckily the muscles surrounding the pelvis provide stability which in most cases eliminates the need of operations. In most cases the trauma will not only affect the pelvis. 39% of patients will have urinary tract trauma and 11% will have peripheral nerve damage. Don't be scared by the numbers, but find reassurance in them. Luckily 75% of cases involving pelvic fractures can recover without surgery."

I shifted uncomfortably in the cheap chair. Take reassurance in them my ass.

"What you can do to help. Depending on the degree of the fractures, there are multiple options. You can keep your dog in a cage. Cage rest can be helpful for keeping the dog comfortable and secure. However if this agitates your dog in any way it's not recommended. Keeping your dog in a small area that restricts some actions, but still allows movement is the next best thing. This stage should last about two weeks. Giving your dog messages and a little bit of encouraged motion in the hind legs is valuable at this time. In most cases after the first week from the accident your dog may want to be standing, even if it is for limited times. Standing should be encouraged, and around the two week marker as I mentioned, walking should also start to take place. If your dog doesn't want to stand or move you can help them with a sling or in some cases medications from your vet. After the first month of recovery your dog should be pushed further. Exercising them on leashes is helpful, start gradual and by month two your dog should be able to participate in longer walks. Activities that could cause more strain such as running and jumping should be put off for a couple more weeks. Thank you for watching, make sure to ask any unanswered questions to a vet as soon as possible."

I ran my fingers through my dark hair, which was sticky with sweat. I was glad the monotone-low budget video was over, but it hadn't taken off any of the heavy dread in my chest. I replayed the numbers in my head. I was no vet, I didn't understand all of the video, but I got the main message. _I am screwed._ My mind started to puddle. I couldn't focus on anything, the more I tried to focus the more I drained I felt. The door cracked open slightly, then swung completely open followed by Dr. Lisien. She wore a complex face; I couldn't sort out the emotions that were making them up.

"Mr. - oh excuse me, Ben, The dog is secure and ready to be taken into your custody. However there are multiple issues we need to sort out first."

Dr. Lisien hadn't taken a seat, so I stood to meet her gaze. Matching her hard look I simply raised my eyebrows.

"Well Ben being a minor there's a few situational objectives we must talk about with your parents before we can release her in your care. Being that's she's an unregistered stray it makes it a little easier. Your mother and father are in the waiting room, ready to be let in. You put your mother as the leading guardian on the form you filled out so we called her to discuss prices and such."

My heart doubled in its rhythm. _Mom and dad Together? Over a dog?_ It didn't make any sense. My heart gave a small pull that was immediately squashed. Ever since my parents split I've always had a small hope they'd get back together. I gave a short nod to the Vet and she opened the door. Mom rushed in as though she had been waiting right next to the door, I craned my neck around her forced hug to see dad. Loitering in the waiting room awkwardly was not my father, but my mother's boyfriend Simon.

Mom held out her hand for the vet before sitting down next to me. My stomach was bubbling hotly, thinking of Simon sitting out behind the door. I shot him a look that made it clear he was not to follow before shutting the door. Joining Mom I waited for the vet to resume speaking.

"Hello Mrs. Blue I'd-" My mom cut off the vet similar to what I had done.

"It's Myra." Her voice was a tad cooler than it had been moments ago; I knew she hated being addressed with the Blue proper as much as I did.

"Sorry, Myra. I'd just like to inform you the quick basics of the situation before we address the legal sides."

"Thanks Dr. Lissen, but the vet tech explained everything to us already," My mother replied briskly.

I flinched at the mention of 'us' similar to the way Dr. Lisien flinched at the misuse of her name.

"Very well, as you can understand we cannot be left responsible for the dog as we are a vet's office not a shelter. I can give you a number for a local shelter if that is best. They can come pick her up from here; however one of you must stay to sign her over to them. I must warn you the shelter has a 20 day policy for strays and a 30 day policy for tagged pets, after that they do put the animals down. I also must disclose that the shelter will not give this dog the special care she needs."

"Yes, we will take the number." Mom didn't even give me a glance.

Dr. Lisien looked at me quickly and must have seen the panic and rage in my eyes.

"Myra, I'm going to get her to bring her in for a moment, let you meet her, while I do so you may want to talk this out with your son." Dr. Lisien hurried out of the room throwing a small smile my way.

"Mom can't we talk about this?" I was feeling very claustrophobic in the rather large room.

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean no Benjamin."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Clearly I don't _Myra_." She flinched slightly

"Simon is allergic, you know that."

" _Dads_ not." I strained the word dad as much as I could without my voice wavering.

"Ben I will pay for your mistake because I know Tom cannot, but I will not allow _it_ in the new house."

"New house? What new hou- oh my god. Mom don't tell me you are moving in with _Him_."

"Not right now Ben, please." Mom began to fidget.

I felt my brain click and I knew _. Son of a bitch._

"The surprise was me spending the weekend helping you and Simon move wasn't it? WASN'T IT!"

"Ben. Not now, we will talk when we get this problem sorted out."

"Problem." It came out in a dull whisper, she didn't even hear me.

I don't care what anyone says. My mom hasn't become more 'laid back' since she's met Simon, she's become less human. It's not entirely her fault of course; Simon has a way of sucking the life out of people. Simon is a lawyer, and treats people like issues to be dealt with and anything in the way of his goal like an inconvenience. Before Mom met him she never would have called an animal an 'it' or referred to her only son hitting a dog as a 'problem' rather she would have done what was best for all parties involved.

The door cracked open tentatively at first, then it opened all the way and vet strolled in. The vet tech was behind her wheeling a wagon like flatbed. The hard surface was covered by a large thick sheet, and the dog was stretched out on its surface. I got up from the chair and made a soft cooing noise. The silvery blue eye appeared and looked right into me. Her tail started thumping softly making puffing noise as the sheet was compressed. She tried to pick up her entire head, but her movements were sloppy. The vet smiled at me,

"She still has a little of the anesthetic in her system, it will wear off by tomorrow."

I caught my mom watching the dog the hardness from her eyes fading. For a moment I thought she had cracked, then her features became stone like again.

"Alright Dr. Lissen I will take the number for the shelter and any paperwork."

Dr. Lisien left the room again leaving the vet tech to shift uncomfortably, watching the stare down between my mother and me. I decided not to say anything for his benefit, but a plan was already forming in my mind. No matter what I was not leaving this dog to die in a pound. I excused myself from the room and walked right out of the office. I sat inside my car thinking, planning. As long as I kept my temper, I'd be ok. A little shy of an hour later my mother walked out followed by Simon. I got out of the car and approached her, thinking of a way to bring up the fact that id wait for the pound to get here. Luckily I didn't need to.

"Ben I'm leaving you in charge to stay here and call the shelter, and get everything situated. I've paid for everything now all you have to do is sign her over."

"Fine." I grumbled trying to sound disappointed.

She looked me down for a second and her features softened again. I felt like I was looking into the eyes of my mother before Simon.

"Ben I am sorry this happened but taking in a dog right now wouldn't have worked; besides we needed all hands on deck to get us moved. I was going to tell you in a much more." She paused slightly. "A much more planned out way."

"We could still use the extra wheels champ," Simon piped up.

I shot him a cold glance followed by a shake of my head.

"No thanks, I'm going home to my dad."

I could tell Simon was getting ready to shoot something back, but Mom put her hand on his shoulder. With that neither my mom nor Simon said another word. They got into the car and drove away leaving me to deal with my dog. I walked back into the vet's office and a different vet tech was waiting by my dog. She was sleeping on the small cart her tongue lolling. The vet tech was pretty, with bright blue eyes framed with large square glasses. A mop of dark hair was pilled on her head, a pen sticking out oddly. Her smile was bright and alive, unlike most of the staff here.

"Hello Ben. My name is Quince and I was told to assist you with this little lady."

"Could you help me wheel her out to my car?"

"Whatever you need sir."

She continued to talk in her bubbly voice all the way out to the car.

"Now the paperwork had a prepaid check to have her signed over to the shelter, but me and Zach, the other tech, knew you'd hang back and keep her." She stopped pulling the wagon a few feet short of my car. My dog began to stir slightly. She pulled out a check from her large front pocket and handed it to me.

"Well if the shelter isn't coming I guess this check is worthless." Her sly smile was oddly contagious. I grinned back at her before ripping the check once, twice. I began to shred the paper in every direction till it was unrecognizable. Her smile grew wider as she pulled the cart next to my car. Then she was all business.

"Alright so what we are going to do is each of us takes two corners of the sheet and pull as hard as we can. We'll lift her up and off the cart. One of us will take go into the back seat of the car, still pulling on the sheet and continue to slid backwards until she's safely laid across the seats. It will be important to not jostle her around too much."

Quince and I did exactly what she said; she chose to crawl across the back seats since she was much smaller than me. I made a mental note to tell Hi to get his ass out to my car and remove his burger wrappers. After my dog was laid comfortably in the back of my car Quince looked up at me and smiled.

"This is why I'm becoming a vet. I love the thought of being able to help animals and people alike. Don't you worry Ben; she'll take care of you if you take care of her." She gave me an almost knowing gaze and I felt heat spreading across my face. I wanted to just tell her thanks but I didn't want her to go yet, something about her happy energy made me feel better.

A look of remembrance darted across her face; she reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to me with a smile I looked down at it. It included her name, **Quince Shaklebi** , her position, and the offices phone number.

"Is Quince short for Quincey or something?" I asked, awkwardly shoving the card into my pocket.

"Nope, it's just Quince." She pointed to her pile of messy hair; "I was born with super blonde hair."

Before I could question what her hair color had to do with the name Quince she gave me a small salute,

"Bye Ben, Duty calls." With that she spun on her heel and left me alone with my new dog.

 **Sorry I know this chapter was long and not the most action packed but it was a needed bridge between what happened and what's to happen. Thoughts on the chapter? How do we feel about Quince and her interesting name? Was it fair of Myra to drop that bomb on Ben? Simon...is he the Whitney of Bens life or a good guy? And of course there is that small issue of Ben now owning a dog. Please review, if this chapter gets good feedback I'll push myself and update in twenty four hours.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Hachilah

My dog stretched on the tan couch, whining softly in her sleep. The drive home with her had been slow. It had taken every last ounce of energy I had to stay on the road, being that all I wanted to do was sleep. Getting her out of the car and inside hadn't been easy. First of all I didn't want anyone to see me with her. I didn't want anyone to ask questions _. Ben who's this? Ben why did you hit her? Ben what were you thinking driving so fast?_ I had seen Hi and Shelton walking towards the beach, but since their backs were to me they didn't notice my arrival. Getting her out of the car and into my room without tearing the stiches in her shoulder had been another thing. She was very squirmy; apparently a sudden burst of energy had made her want to bound the length of the dunes. Even if I had released her, she wouldn't have been able to get as far as she wanted. Her legs were starting to swell and I could see some fresh blood trickling from the bandages near her shoulder. Considering all she had been through, she could have been worse. The large gouge out of her shoulder had been stitched and wrapped, her torn ear had been bandaged, and all the spots of matted fur had either been brushed out or trimmed. The large patch of blood on her chest had been scrubbed away, all found ticks had been removed, and she was wearing a cheap flea collar. The vet tech had told me that it wasn't flea season so luckily she wasn't infested. They gave her a bath which he claimed would help if there were any eggs they missed. I returned my gaze to my sleeping dog.

"God I hope you are flea free." I grumbled quietly, continuing to clean my room.

My room was a pit when I had first gotten home, nowhere near suitable for a recovering dog. After about two hours of tiring cleaning, it was done. I surveyed my room. Being divided oddly I wasn't exactly sure where to put her. My room started normally, like a perfect square, but the back wall went back into two separate nooks, where the windows were, with a window seat under both. I had no use for window seats, so they were covered in dirty laundry and books, basically any shit I wanted out of the way. It had taken 45 minutes alone to clean the two of them out. My left wall had my queen sized bed on it; my right wall had my couch. My front wall had the door into my room and a closet. The door was close to the right wall, while my closet was very close to my bed. The space separating the two nooks on my back wall had a decent sized desk in front of it. Deciding there was nothing more I could do for the sleeping dog at this point, I moved to my deck and plopped down in the old chair. Firing on my laptop, I decided now would be a good time as any to look for names for her.

It was nearing seven o'clock when I had picked a name. It stood out instantly. The name had Hebrew origins, and it translated roughly into; my hope is in her. With a small smile, I spoke the name very loudly and very clearly.

"Hachilah."

Hachilah stirred slightly, but didn't fully awaken. For the first time in days I felt a small heat in my heart. It spread through my veins, making me feel something almost unrecognizable. A purpose.

My phone buzzed once, I almost ignored it, but that small flutter I couldn't ignore made me wonder if it was Tory. I pulled at my phone, but it didn't come out alone. Quince's card fell to the floor as I read the message;

 **TOR: Ben you ok?**

This was the 5th message from Tory since I called her. I told her I got the dog to the vet, and to not tell anyone what had happened. I ignored her other texts, three of the said texts were her asking what happened to the dog. I didn't feel like telling her. I knew Tor, and if she knew I was hiding in my room with a hurt dog, she'd march herself over and that would be the end. I was about to text her that I was fine, when 6th message beeped in.

 **TOR: Ben I see the lights on in your window. You can't hide from me forever. I mean, we live stranded on an island(;**

Wait, a wink face, seriously? What's that supposed to mean? I felt a little mad. I thought of her in my driveway earlier that morning. She was supposed to be mad at me, why is she desperately trying to talk to me. There's no way she's actually worried about me, she's probably just looking for gossip to tweet to her friends _. No, Ben you know she's not like that_. She deserves an answer, no matter her reasons behind it. I sent her a quick simple text trying to close the conversation.

 **I'm fine.**

I wasn't surprised when my phone called out again, twice in a row this time.

 **TOR: What happened to the dog, why aren't you telling me?**

 **TOR: could you at least tell me if she made it…?**

A killer, she's trying to make sure I'm not a killer, that's it. That's why she's so concerned. _Can't have a dog killer in our canine squad, can we? Let's offer Ben the Killer to the metal slab. Maybe they can cut the worthless out of him._

Angry at my own destructive thoughts I sent Tory a text I knew would shut her up.

 **If you have so much time on your hands why don't you go meet lover boy. I'm sure he has lots of ways to keep you busy.**

Just like expected, I didn't hear another peep from her. I started feeling mad again. I wasn't mad at her anymore, I was mad at myself. What the hell was I thinking, Tory is not a whore. If I ever heard anyone disgrace her like that I'd knock their teeth out. _You've implied she's a whore twice today. What the hell is wrong with me? It's Jason I'm really mad at. It's all Jason's fault. Not Tory. Not. Tory._

I threw my head down on the desk so hard stuff bounced. A few stray pencils that were near the edge rolled off and clattered to the floor. Hachilah jerked her head up in surprise, growling slightly.

"It's ok Hachilah. I'm just being stupid."

I sat up rubbing my head, which was pulsing in pain. Hachilah yawned before putting her head back on her paws. She sat quietly, watching me with interest as I bent down to pick up the fallen items. I grabbed Quinces card and placed it on the desk. I still wasn't sure why she had given me the card, maybe it was required. What was puzzling me even more was what she meant about her name and blonde hair. She was odd that girl. With nothing to lose I decided to google the name. I shook my head smiling softly as hundreds of image results loaded. My screen was filled with large lumpy fruit, the color of the sun. She was named after a fruit. A big squishy yellow fruit. I picked up her card staring at the block like font before tossing it in my desk drawer. The card flipped to the normally blank back as it flittered down. I saw purple pen marks, and instantly got curious. There was an added note, from Quince no doubt, in swoopy metallic pen.

 _Ben, you remind me of myself, I was always taking home the next stray. I have a lot of experience in the area, plus I mean, I am a vet in training. What I'm trying to say is I'd love to help you with your new dog! I get off work at 7. Just give me a ring(; I've left you my personal cell below._

What the hell is up with girls and wink faces. I stared at her number, written at the bottom of the card in the same loop like writing. It was almost 7:40 at this point. I bit the inside of my cheek in frustration. I really wanted to call Quince and hear her energetic voice again. That thought came as a surprise. The super energetic attitude normally pisses me off to no end. I like serious girls with their heads on straight. Like Tory. _No, not Tory anymore, she's changed. Then again, I've changed too_. I shook the thoughts of Tory out of my head and returned to Quince. She wasn't like those girls; she seemed down to earth, and happy about it. The short time I was with her, I felt alive. Even just thinking of her now helped that contagious smile find its way to my lips. Maybe that's why ghosts attached themselves to the living. It's nice to feel alive when you are already dead inside. I looked at the purple scribbles again. I mean she gave me her number for a reason. Plus, she _is_ a vet in training…she could be really helpful. She wrote for me to give her a ring, does she actually mean that, or would a text be more appropriate? My fingers grew sweaty as I contemplated my options. I had a sinking feeling that if she knew that I lived out in the boonies she wouldn't have given me her number. Feeling a little reckless I punched in the number and listen to it ring. After the fourth ring she answered, her voice just as bright and cheerful as it had been earlier.

"Hello?"

"Hey Quince, it's me."

"Me who?" I heard the teasing tone in her voice as my face grew red and hot.

"Ben Blue, you gave me your card out by my car today."

"Oh, hi Ben!"

A few heavy seconds ticked by as my brain scrambled hopelessly for words.

"Ben? Is there something I can do for you?"

"Oh, right, yeah. Um. Well you said you'd be willing to help me with my dog…"

"Oh! Yes, yes of course. Would you like me to come over?"

"Well, uh that's the thing. I don't live in town; I live out on Morris Island…so it's kind of a long drive."

"Good thing I have a full tank of gas!"

I couldn't help but smile at her positivity.

I hung up with her shortly after that, trying to tuck away that small smile. I changed into some fresh cloths and brushed my hair. The knocking on my front door was not soft as I had expected it to be, but rather harsh and loud. For some reason the loud banging was almost comforting, like I was getting ready to great an old friend. Quince's bright face glowed softy, the lights from the kitchen reflecting dully off her glasses. She had freed her hair from its messy pile; it instead hung around her shoulders in soft waves. She had ditched the blue vet gear for a pair of baggy black sweatpants and a snug maroon Trident Technical College tee.

"May I come in?"

"Of course, Hachilah is in my room."

As I closed my front door, I saw a flicker of movement from the Brennan house. It might have been a trick of the light but for a fleeting second I was convinced I had seen Tory's curtains violently pulled shut.

"Hachilah, Is that what you named her?"

"Yeah it's like Hebrew or something."

"What does it mean?" her dark brows furrowed together, like she knew the answer but couldn't remember it.

"My hope is in her."

Quince's smile widened, I felt my cheeks tingle in heat.

"I know it's cheesy and stupid-"

"Ben if there's something you like never put it down in front of people, no matter what they think."

Quince pushed my bedroom door open, before I could, a rather bold move in my opinion. She squealed excitedly and rushed over to Hachilah. Her head lifted and her wide pink tongue stretched across the length of Quince's face. For a brief moment I wished it was Tory was on my floor, her red hair pulled back and her green eyes sparkling in admiration as Hachilah charmed her. I looked up and met Quince's ocean blue eyes; her fingers were absentmindedly running swirls on Hachilah's head.

"You know what would be really cute?"

"Hmm?" All the sudden I was feeling tired and guilty. The words I had texted to Tor were burned into my lids; every time I blinked they flicked by like a nightmare.

"If you called her Hachi for short."

At this Hachilah-Hachi raised her head higher, her tail wagging with a carefree glide across my couch.

"Who in hell names their kid after a fruit?" _I can't believe I just said that. Tune in next week for 'How Ben changes the topic in the most awkward ways possible.'_

Quince erupted in laughter; Hachi glanced side to side excitedly.

"So you looked up the origin of Quince, part time vet, full time lumpy fruit."

"Hey at least you've got a story to tell."

"You think Quince is bad, you should meet my sister Yangmei. She has a shock of red hair, redder than anything you've ever seen."

 _Bet it's not redder than Torys._

"Seriously? Yangmei that sounds like…I don't even know." I let a few laughs fall out, but as the minutes ticked by my limbs began to clench up like steel, determined to stay awake but begging for sleep.

"No I'm kidding, I'm an only child." Quince laughed at this, but I saw something deeper appear, and disappear in the waves of her blue eyes. It was gone so fast most probably miss it. I know better than to question those sorts of things.

"So Ben, what would you like to know about your little Hachilah?"

"Well first off, feel free to call her Hachi, I like the way its crisp and falls out of the mouth." _Oh my God stop talking Ben._

She didn't say anything, but her mouth curved up in a smile.

"Secondly, do you know what breed she is, or how old she is?"

"Oh Ben you could at least put my degree to the test, this is child's play. She is of very strong Catahoula Leopard Dog background, and I put her at just short of two years old."

Quince and I talked for a solid half hour about Hachi, our favorite ice-creams and everything in-between. It was nearing 9:30 when Quince stood up from the floor and yawned. Hachi, who had her head on Quince's knee whined in protest. Quince gave her one final rub before turning towards me.

"Alright Ben I'm going to have to bail, I have the early shift tomorrow."

"Ok cool, um thanks for stopping by." Goodbyes have always been hardest for me.

"Real quick let me go grab some shit from my car, I made you and Hachi a little goodie bag"

Quince told me she'd come right back in with the stuff and that I could just wait inside. So I did, I waited and waited. After at least ten minutes I got a little worried. It wasn't like she could get lost from my room to her car, could she? I stepped out on the cement slab I call a porch and scanned for her familiar dark hair. I saw it all right, smack dab next to a head of red curls.

 **Well well well, Quince and Tory meeting…I bet Ben didn't see that coming. How do you think our favorite little red head likes Ben's house guest? What do you think Quince told her? What do you think of the name Ben picked? Should Ben have invited Quince over? I'd love to hear any general thoughts after reading this chapter. Please review, hearing all your thoughts really gets me motivated. Also might I mention I really like where some of you are going with the little ideas you mention in the reviews. Till the next update.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Welcome back my lovely readers. Sorry for the long gaps in-between updates. Enjoy chapter 5!**

Chapter 5: Never Alone

Tory was laughing at something, I assume, Quince had just said. I walked nervously, like a mouse trying to pick at the seed, seed he knows is right by the snakes open jaws. Tory's back was to me, but Quince saw me right away. I made a quick chopping gesture to my neck, but alas I wasn't quick enough.

"Ben hey, I was right on my way to come give you Hachi's stuff but I got distracted." She gestured at Tory, who had turned sharply and was now staring at me. Her gaze was calculated and controlled, I had no idea what was going on behind her vibrant eyes. Deep down I was feeling more and more like a mouse. Small, cowardly, insignificant. The tall willows lining the road bent in compliance to the wind, rubbing together they let out a small hiss. Quince's smile was frozen in a relaxed grin, oblivious the situation in front of her.

"Ben, you should have told me when you arrived with Hachi, I would have been _more_ than willing to help _you_." Tory emphasized words where it hurt the most.

"Thanks Tor but I assumed you were busy." My palms were sweaty, a brutal mix of anxiety and frustration. What I wouldn't give to take back everything I said to her in the past 24 hours.

"Well not to fear, Tory you can help me carry in all this stuff." Quince was speaking directly to Tory while simultaneously tying her hair back into its hopeless mound. _Bad idea, abort; abort._

"Thanks ladies but I'm more than capable of carrying a few things inside. Quince you should really head out, Tor you should get some sleep. I mean god knows Whitney will be full steam ahead about her outdoor movie shenanigans." I tried and failed to talk in a slow carefree way.

"Ben, Quince here has gotten you more than a few things." Tory's gaze shifted from collected to suspicious.

I glanced at Quince who smiled sheepishly and gestured to the open trunk. Taking it as an invitation, I moved myself over to the back of the car, while advoiding getting in range of Tory's possible kicks. I focused really hard on keeping a straight face, but as my eyes prowled across the multiple boxes of dog stuff it was becoming extremely difficult.

"wow, um. This- Thanks for driving this out to me." I forced an awkward cough. "Uh, how much- What do I owe you again?" _Please give me an amount, please give me an-_

"Oh don't be silly Ben, no charge for you."

I heard the soft ripple of Tory's jacket as she crossed her arms. I needed to get out of this situation, like hell to the now _. How do you think this looks? Meeting a girl in college and bringing her home on the same day. Not to mention the fact you've called your best friend a whore multiple times today, bet she's thinking real fond of you right now._

"Ok thanks so much for this Quince but I really got to get back to Hachilah."

"Right, oh of course I'm sorry. Let me at least help you get this stuff to your porch."

"No. Really it's fine. Um just help me get them out of the trunk. I can sort the boxes here on the lawn…" I trailed off quietly.

"Alright." This time Quince didn't argue, it was safe to say she had _finally_ caught on.

I shuffled between the girls in choppy movements, as I pulled box upon box out of the trunk I was feeling trapped. Like the magician pulling the scarf out of his mouth, never-ending foolishness. Tory could have turned and left at any moment, but she didn't. All of the sudden I didn't want Quince to go. After what felt like the hundredth box the trunk was empty. I was amazed she had fit so much in the seemingly tiny space. Tory continued to wait. Quince clambered into the front seat. Leaning out of the open window she smiled,

"Ben don't be a stranger, I can stop over anytime you need help. Nice meeting you Tory!"

Tory pulled herself up from the 'waiting to chew out Ben slouch'; it reminded me of the way a cobra draws itself up before its strike.

"Nice meeting you too Quince, I have a feeling I'll be seeing you around quite often."

 _Ouch. No Tor I can promise you that won't be the case._

Quince's car purred down the road, she was quickly cloaked by darkness. I was still facing the empty stretch, ignoring the prickle of Tory's eyes on my back. She was waiting till I faced her, till I was forced to look into the emerald eyes I adored. My turn was slow, careful. I tensed up as I completed the 180, bracing myself for a slap. What I wasn't expecting was tears. Holy mother of shit, this is about to end horribly. Emotions and Benjamin Blue do not mix, like oil and water, but worse.

"Tory..."

"Cut the crap Ben."

"Tory." I whispered her name like it was the only word I knew.

"Ben I can't even fathom words right now." She threw her hands up, then pulled them back in. appearing small and childlike.

"Tory just go. Please." My please came out rocky as my voice cracked. Guilt, guilt for using Tor as my punching bag, guilt for hitting Hachi, guilt for having Quince over. Guilt was all I felt.

"No. No Ben you are not allowed to do this to me."

I said nothing; I didn't need to say anything. I needed to get home. Tory didn't drop eye contact. She waited for me to respond, I had no intention on saying anything.

"Go away Tory." The words came out soft like a small breeze.

"Ben please." Her voice cracked and a steady flow of small tears began to fall.

That's when any defense I had built disappeared. Never in my years of knowing Tory had she cried around me. Never had she let her walls down around the gang. That didn't mean she could keep all her feelings hidden. Sometimes late at night if I focus I can feel the members of my pack. With Hi and Shelton it's very shallow. Sometimes I'll get little waves of anxiety from Shelton when I know he's up studying. Sometimes its flashes of fear from Hi; when he wakes from those horrible night terrors he doesn't know I know about. Tory has always been different. I can always feel emotions pouring out of her, like water from a spigot, but I can't depict what she's feeling. All her emotions run together into one big mess. It's like being able to see a cake and smell a cake but not knowing a single ingredient. Tonight was the same. I could feel emotion, raw and simple flooding out of her. I could imagine it pooling at my ankles, but I couldn't tell what she was feeling. Suddenly I didn't care _what_ she was feeling. I just wanted her to know I cared; I wanted her to feel safe. I closed the space between us and pulled her close. I could feel the heat of her breath on my neck, the wetness of her tears; I could feel her frame shake against the cold. I instinctively tried to pull her closer, fully aware that there was no space left to pull her into. Her whisper was so soft I almost missed it.

"Please don't send me away."

I tore away gently, like pulling apart Velcro. Her eyes darted across my face hopeful and scared. I wrapped my fingers around her hand and led her inside.

I respect Tory more than I respect myself, which is why I have never brought her into my room. I don't want anyone to ever think ill of her. Tonight was different. Without dropping her hand I steered her directly into my room. Hachilah's head rose as soon as my door was pushed open. Tory's sniffles had ceased, but a few tears remained sprinkled on her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of my little Hachi.

"Ben, she's so beautiful."

"Go on, say hello." I dropped her hands and nudged her softly towards the couch.

Tory tentatively walked across my floor. It almost looked like she was floating, dancing on air. Even my lose floorboards didn't moan in protest. She knelt down and reached a small hand out. Hachilah's soft and smelly tongue practically jumped across Tory's face, gathering up any spare tears. Tory's face lit up in a laugh, causing Hachi to stir excitedly. Tory's eyes started to droop as she ran two fingers over Hachilah's ears absentmindedly. The entire world seemed to quiet down around us, the silence felt safe like a large blanket. I slid closer to her, having been just a few feet away. She whispered something softly as she curled into my arms. I heard it loud and clear but pretended I didn't.

"This is wrong."

Softly I shushed in her ears until her dreams carried her away. After about a solid hour sitting Indian style with Tory in my arms I lost feeling everywhere. I tried to keep her as still as possible as I shakily stood up. Carrying her slowly I slid her into my bed and covered her with my old blankets. Her mouth parted softly like she was trying to say something, but she didn't fully wake. I without thinking moved over to my couch and almost yelled in surprise. I wasn't used to seeing a large dog on my back up bed. I looked at the two most important ladies in my life and just shook my head. Grabbing a discarded pillow from the foot of the bed I curled onto the floor.

It was around one am. Something jarred me from my sleep. I open my eyes slowly, confusion still rooted in my brain. I thought I had heard fighting. Lifting my groggy head I saw my bedroom door was open. Sitting up completely I heard a loud series of cracks. Ignoring my protesting joints I craned my head upwards to see my bed vacant. All muddled thoughts gone I called for her softly. My whisper seemed to drop like lead in the air. I crept along the hall trying to pinpoint her location. I heard voices, muffled voices. I followed the sound to the living room. No one was there but the voices were still present. The realization dawned on me; my fingers reached blindly for the familiar fabric of our curtains. Pulling them back my heart quickened. My eyes locked on the scene playing out; Victoria Brennan, on my lawn, at like one am, in an obviously heated, fight with Jason Taylor. My eyes were glued to the pair. My feet were frozen to the ground. All of the sudden like a lion's pounce Jason lurched forward and grabbed Tory. The shock of anger that cracked through me was so strong my eyes were engulfed in flames. With my flare strength id be able to knock that blond piece of trash flat on his ass. As my hands reached for the front door a pulse of lighting tore apart my skull.

 _Ben no, stay out of sight._

Tory. I stopped dead. The recognition of what had just happened caused me to stumble, and trip on the tacky 'gone fishing' rug. My flare slipped away like air leaking from a balloon. I was surprised Tory had been able to send me that clear of a message when she wasn't flaring. She wasn't able to do it often, and I knew it caused her a lot of pain to do so. I drew back slowly, milking the shadows back to my window. I returned just in time to see Jason shove Tory. Hard. That was it. Flare or not this punk was going to eat shit. Tory beat me to it. Popping up from the ground like a spring flower she took her small hand and connected it with Jason's jaw. I wish I had been able to hear the crack. Jason lifted a large hand to his face and wiped a trickle of blood, starting to pool at the corner of his lips. Jason spat a mouthful of the punches aftermath right at her feet and disappeared behind his car. I was surprise of the cars chameleon like grace. In the day it stood out and moved with pompous energy. In the dark of night it melted into the shadows and was the very resemblance of a whisper. Tory had sunk to the ground in a little ball her shoulders moved to match her jagged breaths. I don't remember leaving my house or crouching next to her. I do however remember the look of fear on her face.

 **Was this chapter anything like you thought it would be? Has Ben redeemed himself for his, quite frankly, shitty attitude? What on earth brought Jason out to the island at one am? What is going on between Jason and Tory? How did you feel about this chapter? Please review I absolutely love to hear from my readers. Until the next update!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't have an excuse other than a bad case of writers block. I'm sorry and enjoy.**

Chapter 6: The wrong way to right a wrong.

Tory's dirty sneakers squeaked quietly on the concrete. The small noise broke the even humming, buzzing through my skull. She turned and looked at me for just a moment before disappearing into her quite house.

 _Don't touch me. I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine. It was nothing. Stop asking about it. Don't tell. Please stop bringing it up. Don't make me punch you too. Goodnight Ben._

I played her responses on a loop as I sat in the wet grass. I could feel my thin pajama pants grow soggy from the moisture. I watched the silhouette of her small figure move around behind shut curtains, the warm glow of her lamp illuminating her movements. When the light flicked out I didn't move. The night seemed colder, not just the air but the entirety of my surroundings. I could feel it moving in closer to me now, the breath of the darkness flicking across my neck. The night is alive, more alive than people care to admit. She is a huntress and I am her prey. The stars are her hounds and the earth but her hunting ground. The moon is different; he provides us an escape from the inked shadows where she lies. I looked up at the moon. I couldn't help but wonder if he felt as alone as I did.

The steps I took to get off the lawn are a little hazy. Any memory of how I ended up face first on the kitchen floor is completely gone. Waking sore on the unforgiving linoleum was a surprise. The initial grogginess pardoned me from remembering last night. Then slowly and undoubtedly the night's occurrences came to the surface of my thoughts. They blurred together making my head hurt and my stomach tighten. My palms began to sweat.

Pain is easily forgotten, when it is a memory of your own actions. There was a time when I was seven years old, that I was addicted to height. It was when my parents had first begun _really_ fighting. When it got bad at home I would leave, and I would climb. It didn't matter what was conquered, as long as I could conquer something. It made me feel powerful, like I was in control. As the fighting got worse I got more daring. The first time I got stuck up in a tree it was exhilarating. Don't get me wrong I was scared shitless and cried a ton, but as soon as I was back on the ground I wanted nothing more than to feel that way again. To feel so scared I couldn't feel anything. That's what I did. The entire summer before I went into second grade I pushed myself more and more. I climbed higher and higher. Eventually I climbed a little too high. The pain was nothing like the fear. The fear of the falling is eternal, while the pain of landing was temporary. Pain is tight and hot. Fear is vast and cold. The pain was easy to forget. Looking at old scars from where the matches kissed me just a little too long I felt no pain. Looking at the hard callouses from working on Sewee I felt no pain. Tory's face before she disappeared behind her front door caused nothing but pain.

I took my fist and hit the linoleum as hard as I could. I did it again. Each time my fist connected I yelled a little louder. I wasn't yelling out of pain, I was yelling out of pure rage. I could hear Hachi start to whine, continuing till she was full on howling. Not wanting to disturb the neighbors more than I already had I pulled myself up from the cold floor and stumbled back to my room. Upon seeing me Hachi tried to pull herself off the couch. More waves of guilt pushed down on me. _Too much, too much too much. I can't do this I can't I cant. Run. Escape. Run. Run._

I ran. Fast. My bare feet hit the concrete. The sharp road reached up and chewed at my feet. My rough callouses tried their best to keep me running, but it wasn't enough. I needed to go faster. I needed to fly, to free myself from my problems, my thoughts. The wolf came out to play. The fire ripped through me, making my heart soar and my fingers tingle. My eyes cut through the grass and my ears flew through the sky. I was free.

I didn't slow till I reached the bridge connecting our little island to the rest of the world. The bridge wasn't large or commercial. It wasn't made of concrete and iron. It wasn't a manmade product, rather a product made by man. Some may argue that they are the same thing, I however disagree. It was one of the first bridges built in the area, built with hands, wood and sweat. Long iron nails driven in with equal tools and determination. The bridge wasn't terribly big, but it was wide enough for a sidewalk to pass on each side of the two lane road. The road was empty; the air seemed still and sticky. I couldn't hear the faint cry of the gulls or loud crashing of the waves. The bridge was like a gateway separating them from us. On one side time moves faster. Kids must become adults before they become children. Ideas and dreams have to be forgotten to allow for the facts. On the other side the waves carry sweet lullabies its people urging them to stay forever; to lie in the warm sand amongst the sea turtle eggs and small crabs. On our side time is our friend. Here where I am now, on the bridge that decided our fate, the only whisper of time is the memories you carry.

I dropped off the side of the bridge, cursing as a loose stone cut open the bottom of my foot. My eyes clenched shut reflexively as I heard a soft chuckle. The pain from the rock and the surprise of not being alone, caused my flare to slip away silently. Like a doe bounding through a misty field. My brown eyes met a pair the color of warm honey. Short greasy waves of caramel colored hair curled before they hit her shoulders. A joint was sitting in between her long boney fingers, the nails clad in chipping black polish.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Her torn and dirty jeans shifted against the dirt as she pressed her back against the bridge's support beams.

"Katrina, is that you."

"Is the sky a shade of purple?"

"With what you're smoking I'm sure it is."

Kat laughed, it wasn't the laugh I remembered.

"Well Xavier, don't be a stranger. Come sit next to me."

Hearing her call me Xavier made my chest hurt. The name brought back memories I'd kept buried for a long time.

"Kat I've missed this, I've missed you. It's been a long time."

"It's been, what a year silly V."

"Kat I haven't seen you since the eighth grade."

"Time flies when you're high, sad and hungry."

I was about to make a comment, when I heard a stick crack from the bridge corner. A man appeared under the bridge, he hardly looked at me before sitting on Kat's other side. He was tall but fairly skinny. He was mixed, his skin a soft brown, his hair black and curly. He wore a pair of baggy jeans with rips and a loose red shirt. His eyes were a pale blue, which startled me at first.

"Hey Xavier this is Skeet. Skeet, meet my old friend V."

" V." he said making eye contact and offering me a nod. I returned the gesture.

Kat passed the joint to Skeet, who took it without a word.

I sat under that bridge with Kat and Skeet for what felt like forever. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Kat was the kind of person who could disappear for years then come back and have it be like no time had passed. I didn't stumble for words or have to endure awkward silence. I was content and at ease. I passed on the joint, no matter how bad I wanted it. When the time came I didn't really feel the need to say goodbye. I knew I'd see her again. Maybe not today, or even sometime this year, but someday I'll run into her again. It will probably be when I need her most and expect her least. With a small nod and a wave I left them both under the bridge to right their wrongs, wrongly.

 **Ok wow for such a short chapter I feel like a lot happened. At this point in the story are there certain personality traits, or thoughts you've noticed Ben has? There's a few I keep pressing into the writing and I'm curious if anyone has noticed. So in this chapter we've meet two new characters, Kat (Katrina) and Skeet. How do you feel about these characters? I feel like Ben is very close to Kat, do you feel differently? What do you think of their 'relationship?' How does she fit into Ben's past and what do you think V (Xavier) is all about? As a big I'm sorry to my readers I will be updating chapter seven sometime in the next day or two, so keep your eyes peeled.**

 **PS also if you are a fan of my New Beginning fic I'm struggling hard core on continuing it, so I think I'm going to focus solely on Worth the Fight for a while. No I'm not giving up on it so don't worry.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guy, here's chapter seven for you like I promised. Please please please if you haven't already make sure you read and Review chapter six before starting this one. I really liked writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.**

Chapter 7: A Boy Named Xavier

I didn't run home. For once I didn't want to outrun my thoughts. I could still smell the musty old bridge and the weed, even though I was a solid mile away. Katrina. She used to smell like green apples and honey. She used to have light in her eyes. I met Kat when I was 12 years old. I was moody, scared, and friendless. My parents had just gotten divorced and my mom didn't think I was coping, so she sent me to a group.

" _It will be good for you Ben."_

That's what she said to me before she rolled up the car windows and drove away. Part of me was scared she was never coming back; part of me hoped it was true. I had walked up to the small house alone and angry. It gave off a strong vibe, the kind that practically screamed, 'don't let your only child go in there alone.' What my mother was thinking letting me go I couldn't tell you, why I actually went in I also don't know. But I did go in, and it changed my life.

In the doorway was a small girl with socks that didn't match and long hair that wasn't combed. One hand was on her hip, the other clutching a pink piece of paper. Each chipped fingernail was painted a different color. She spoke loud and confidently.

"That's a stupid name. And you have stupid rules."

"Listen Sweetie it's for your own good." A round woman with graying hair and wrinkled eyes was bending over so she could match the child's gaze.

Upon seeing me the old woman hushed the little girl, and smiled.

"Hello little boy."

"Hi." My voice was quiet and awkward.

The woman grabbed a blue bucket, which had previously been sitting next to a pink bucket. She squatted down in front of me and smiled. Behind her I saw the little girl stick her tongue out, mocking the lady. When she saw me looking she smiled, looked down at the woman's overly large butt and rolled her eyes. I tried not to laugh and focused on the blue bucket instead. The woman spoke softly.

"Welcome child. Before you step into this house there are three rules you must follow. Ok?"

I nodded. She shook the blue bucket, blue slips of paper rattled inside.

"The first rule is you are to tell no one here your real name. You'll pick from this bucket, and after that, when you are under my roof that will be your name. Understood?"

As stupid as it sounded I nodded again.

"Very good. Rule number two is, although I encourage you to make friends here, you are to not tell anyone here about your real family, real name, were you live, or anything they could use to talk to you outside of this house ok?"

My nods were losing energy.

"The last rule is you are not allowed to talk about the kids you meet here, or what they talk about outside of this house ok? We want everyone to be safe."

With that, my hand disappeared inside the ocean of blue papers.

I held it out in my open hand for her to see.

My eyes were trying to focus on my new identity, but I couldn't help but watch the girl, who had ripped her pink slip in two, trying to place them in the woman's hair. One side flittered down off the gray head and onto the floor. In messy black letters it read **KAT.**

"Xavier. Welcome to the family." The old woman gave me a warm smile, not having noticed the girl called Kat's paper defiance.

"And this is Katrina, why don't the two of you join the other children." She gestured to Katrina who looked bored as can be.

Katrina took my hand and the two of us walked down the carpeted hallway; turned the corner to a brightly lit room.

I moved off the road as a car roared past, headed towards our complex. I didn't see who was driving, but I honestly didn't care. I peeled away from the road, down to the coastline. It was mostly rock here; I'd have to walk another mile before it sloped to the familiar sand I ran on with the gang. Watching my footing, and wincing in pain as I felt the gash on my foot split open further, I ventured down to where the water met the rock. Siting on the first large dry stone I could find I sat down and let my bleeding foot soak in the water.

Kat was my landing point; my stable place in a chaotic world. Every weekend I could go, and for one night be Xavier, and I could make him whoever I wanted. Every weekend I would find Kat, waiting in the doorway, or sitting on the table where the blue and pink buckets used to sit. Every weekend she'd be right there and together we'd face the crazy in the room full of other nameless children. And that's how it was every weekend until it wasn't. One day when I was let into the hall, Kat wasn't there waiting for me. I tried to wait for her instead but I couldn't fight authority like she could. I was ushered into the little room and sat alone in the corner. I never saw Kat again in the little room at the end of the carpeted hall.

When I was 13 I was dropped off downtown for a birthday party with people I wasn't friends with.

" _It will be a good experience Ben."_

Mom rolled up her windows and drove off, leaving me alone on the cracked sidewalk. I never made it to the party. The boys weren't where they said they'd be so I wandered alone down the streets. I settled on the library steps, hugging the gift my mom had made me bring. I had never felt so alone and abandoned. I don't know how she recognized me, or how I recognized her, but still she found me. She jumped up onto the curb and ran up the library steps. I looked up and met her eyes, full of excitement and wonder. Her hair was combed but her socks still didn't match. Her fingers had chipping blue polish on them.

"Xavier?"

"Katrina?"

And then she hugged me, her soft hair ticking my face. She sat and we talked, we talked like we had seen each other yesterday. Then she grabbed my hand and convinced me to walk with her. I left the small poorly wrapped gift on the steps for anyone to claim. We walked out of downtown and to the old train tracks. She sat on them, so I did too. We talked about how she had to pack up and move in with her grandparents in the middle of the night and wasn't allowed to come back. We talked about how we didn't miss the room at the end of the hall. I could tell she had changed, but I thought it was ok. I had changed too. Then all of the sudden we heard the train whistle. I stood up and got off the tracks immediately. I expected Kat to do the same. But she didn't. She stood up straight in the middle of the tracks and watched the bend with hunger in her eyes. The light of the train turned the corner and rushed around the tracks fast. My screams for her to get off died as the whistle screeched. At the last moment she jumped off the tracks and to the opposite side. Through the cracks between the passing cars I saw her green shirt stand up, brush off and walk away. That was the last time I saw a Kat I recognized.

Pulling my feet from the cold water I stood up and stretched. High tide was coming in and I didn't feel like taking a swim. Moving back in the direction of the road I smiled to myself, thinking of her beat up sneakers and chipped nail polish. The way she would hold my hand, like she meant it, talk to me like she cared, and listen to me like she knew the answers. Katrina was my first real friend.

At the start of my eight grade year I moved in permanently with my dad. I was angry that I was being isolated, but I wasn't sad. I had no friends I was leaving behind. There were two boys a year younger than me that lived there too, but at first I didn't care. By the time year was almost halfway over, I was getting ready for my first job interview. Dad wasn't used to sharing his income with a second person and money was tight. It was at a super sketchy store that I knew for a fact had a 'back room' if you catch the drift. I was dreading it; I didn't want to work indoors, let alone a place I know the cops would eventually bust. Dad pulled up to the little corner store and I stepped out of the car.

" _This will be beneficial to you Ben."_

He didn't even bother to roll up the window, he just drove away.

I was on edge as I approached the school. A group of rough looking high schoolers, all a lot bigger than me, were laughing and passing around a dark bottle. One of them yelled something at me, the others laughed. But then one of them with stringy and poorly dyed pink hair stood up. Her chipping white polish was clutching the bottle. She practically tossed it at the oldest looking one and started running towards me. My heart was pounding in my chest. The girl was wearing a short little denim skirt and a white shirt, which was way too small. Her feet were bare and covered in cuts. Her eyes were puffy with dark rings under them, and there were, what I had thought at the time, were large bruises on her neck.

"Xavier…is that you?"

"Katrina?" my eyebrows flew up and my mouth hung open.

Kat launched herself at me, as one of the boys yelled something. Kat's crashed her lips on mine as her middle finger shot up to the group of cackling teens. Katrina stole my first kiss in a dirty parking lot as an F you to a group of high school boys I didn't even know. Her lips tasted like coconut chap stick and booze. She had changed, but it was ok because I had changed too. Together we broke rule number two, and made a meeting spot to meet. I told her it was far away and she told me she'd get there. And she did. Night after night we'd sit under the bridge connecting her world and mine. Night after night we'd talk like I'd seen her every day since she dodged the train. And that's how it was every night until it wasn't. One night she wasn't there waiting for me. Until today I never saw Kat under our bridge again.

 **Now you know a little more about Ben's past, and Katrina. Kat is such a fun character to write I hope you guys like her; if you do make sure to tell me. We might get to see a little more of her. Please don't think that Ben is some kind of player, with Quince, Kat and Tory. That's not why I introduced these girls. I do not ship Ben with anyone but Tory. I can't tell you why yet but both Quince and Kat play a very important role in this fic. Like I said before please make sure to review both this chapter and chapter six. You guys have no idea how much my day improves when I get to see people's thoughts and opinions on my work. I really pour my soul into this stuff for my readers and all I'm asking for in return is a little feedback. Thank you and I'll try to get chapter eight up soon.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8. Finally certain members of the pack make an appearance. Who's been missing our favorite boys? Before you read on I'd like to take a moment to say thank you from the bottom of my heart, to Daisysviolinist. They have left a review on every single chapter I've posted, and that means the world to me. Enjoy chapter 8.**

Chapter 8: Starting Point

It was almost three o'clock by the time my injured foot and I limped to my front steps. The complex wasn't its normal peaceful silence; on the contrary loud music was playing often interrupted by high pitched laughter. I recognized Whitney's uncanny laugh right away, it sounded like a bird dying of suffocation. A sweaty Hiram and Shelton were heading from Tors backyard when they saw me. I gave a wave, but casually tried to ignore the fact that they were speeding up to see me. I slipped inside my house ignoring their shouts. I was looking for something to clean my foot with when Thickburger let himself in.

"Yo, Ben what's up with the Hive and Dive?"

"Um what?"

"Hive. And. Dive."

"I'm not deaf Thickburger, just what in the Hell are you talking about."

"Oh naive little Ben. Hive, as in Hi shipped with Wave, and Dive as in disappear into my house ignoring my best friends who haven't seen me in what feels like forever because I've been all sad and lone ranger. Hive and Dive."

"I'm busy Hi."

"Busy being a stick in the mud."

"I'm not a stick in the mud."

"Stickinthemudsaywhat."

"What?"

"HA! Point proven."

"Oh my God, are you a third grader? Now get out of my house before I knock you a good one."

"But Ben I'm exhausted, I've been lifting tables and putting these ugly blue flowers in these ugly white jars, on those ugly red and white picnic blanket table cloths."

I was about to ask him what he was doing setting all those tables when Hachi started barking. Hiram's head whipped in the direction of my room so fast I worried he'd snap his own pudgy neck. At first my stomach dropped in panic, I still wasn't ready to announce my girl to the rest of the gang. Shelton got on me for being a reckless driver all the time, and that's when I wasn't even speeding. Hi starting walking towards my room. I could have yelled at him to stop, or even tackled him if necessary, but I didn't. Feeling oh so comfortable in my house, Hi let himself in my room and disappeared behind the door. A small nagging told me to go in there too, how horrible would it be if Hachi went Cujo on someone. But once again I didn't, I knew my girl and I wasn't worried. Although I could hear Hi fine, I began to grow uneasy being he still hadn't come out. I started to limp toward my room when my front door swung open. Shelton who looked mildly interested but also exhausted; followed by Tory, who looked irritated, poured into my living room. I tried to meet Tor's eyes but her gaze was locked on the small oil painting of a boat above my TV. Shelton's eyes kept searching for mine, and then quickly darting to my slightly ajar bedroom door.

"Let me guess Hi texted you all."

"Is it true, did you really get a dog?" Shelton's thin fingers pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

"Yeah I guess I did, why do you look so spooked?" I tried to pay attention to Shelton, but I was distracted by Tory, whose fingers were flying a mile a minute across her phone.

"I'm not spooked, just er, uh. Surprised I guess?" Shelton turned back at Tory for support. She had pocketed her phone but just shrugged.

Trying to cease the awkward living room discussion, I pointed them towards my room. Even though I was already slow due to my killer cut, I hung back on purpose to walk by Tory. I let a stray finger travel and brush across her arm. Her green eyes flashed to meet mine, startled at first, but then quickly softened. She offered me a small smile, I grinned back at her. It was a start.

The next few hours flew by. Hiram and Shelton were all over Hachilah. Shelton started calling her Hach, which I thought was irritating. I mean, how many names does a dog need? Tory and I sat on my bed, Shelton on the floor, and Hi practically laying on Hachi; which of course she just loved. Her tail moved a mile a minute; and whenever Hi would stop petting her, she'd turn on the puppy dog eyes till he resumed. I talked a little about how she came to be mine, leaving out some details, like the real reason I was speeding, and some of the details about Quince. I would shift every so often, until eventually my hip was pressed against Tory's. My hands stayed to myself like a gentleman, until the point where Tory violently sneezed. As we all laughed I couldn't stop myself from tucking a single red curl back behind her ear. She didn't flinch, but she immediately got up for a tissue. When she sat back down there was evident distance between us. Eventually around 5:00 Whitney called Tory, and she got up to leave. As she lingered in the doorframe to say goodbye, I watched her eyes flick to the spot of floor where she had fallen asleep in my arms. Then she disappeared like the smoke off a candle.

Hi and Shelton tried to get me to come to the backyard BBQ and movie that was apparently planned for tonight. I politely declined, what I needed was some time alone. They pouted saying that if I was going to be that way they weren't going either. Their loss I guess. I spread myself out across the wooden floor, smelling the always present scent of the wood polish and sea salt. Hachi half dropped half rolled off my couch and spread out next to me. I traced pattered in her fur till her eyes drooped shut and her soft pink tongue lolled out. I had just begun to nod off when my phone buzzed, it was from Tor.

 **If you aren't down here to support me while I fend off a party-crazed Whitney, and if she tries to stuff one more piece of cake in me, I'm personally going to smear this horribly addicting vanilla frosting all over your car windows.**

Despite everything, that made me laugh. Something I didn't do often. I couldn't help but imagine Tory spreading the frosting across a window, only to stop and lick it off her fingers. Stopping my imagination before it could run wild; I slowly made my way off of my floor and to the party. Hachi had whined slightly and tried to follow but I knew it was too much action for her.

I found Tory, doing exactly what her text said; laughing with a bunch of moms, while trying to subtly force to plate of cake back into Whitney's hand. When she saw me, she excused herself from the ladies, and surprisingly she threw a mock five fingered wave in my direction, before turning and heading in the opposite direction. I felt thoroughly confused, and decided to follow her. I found her sure enough, leaning against my car, plate of cake in hand. I sped up my walking and approached her cautiously. She had a controlled smile on her face.

"Benjamin Blue what did I say would happen if you weren't there to help me fend off the evil sugar spewing Whitney."

"You wouldn't." I fake gasped, Tory almost broke character, but managed to keep her voice giggle free.

"I would." She lazily pushed her finger across the top layer of icing.

I lunged at her, and she screamed, bursting out into a fit of laughter. Right as I was about to scoop her up by the waist and twirl her away from my car, she attacked. Her icing clad finger poked my cheek and traveled down my face.

"Gah!" I hollered in surprise as the warm sticky frosting was deposited on my face. I was about to chase her around the car when my hot pain traveled up from my injured foot. My eyes clenched shut and I cursed in pain. Tory stopped laughing right away and moved to my side. Her eyes scanned me over as if trying to locate where the pain was coming from

"What's the matter Ben?"

"Nothing I'm fine."

"Bull shit Mr." " Now tell me what's really wrong or I'm going to cake you again."  
"And" She added with a wicked grin, "You won't be able to run away if you're injured."

After a few more lame attempts to brush it off, I took off my shoe and showed her my poorly wrapped foot. She bit her lip in worry, squinting to see the depth of the cut in the poor lighting. By now the party chatter had quieted down, replaced with the even rolls coming from the speakers by the movie projector. I hadn't even thought to ask what movie was ever decided.

"Tory it's just a scrape I'm fine."

"You are not Ben, that's deeper than- Hey I have an idea."

Oh no. This is so not good.

"There's someone here that I know, she can stitch you up."

"Oh now you're just being ridiculous, I don't need stitches."

Tory wouldn't hear any of my excuses. Fifteen minutes later I was sitting on Dr. Howard's counter while a blonde Dr. prepared to stitch me up. She numbed my foot and was off to work, her organized travel sized doctor bag at her feet. I didn't watch her; it honestly made me a little queasy to watch the darkly threaded needle dance through my skin. The minutes seemed to tick by slower and slower. I laughed nervously when she excused herself momentarily. Tory was curled on the rocker she'd pulled to face me, asleep. She had tried to keep conversation going for as long as she could, but in the end exhaustion won. With the Dr. gone momentarily I felt safe to actually look at sleeping Tor, not just small glances. She reminded a little of Hachi when she slept. Completely still and peaceful, her mouth parted just slightly so I could see the tip of her tongue. That thought made my heart smile. The Dr. returned and finished me up, she told me to not to put any wait on it for at least 24 hours, and to come to her office in a week to get the stitches removed. The normal gross Doctor stuff. Before she left she handed me her card. Her name was printed across the top, my nose wrinkled in disgust.

 **DR. ELAINE TAYLOR**

I should have recognized the blonde hair and especially those blue eyes; the eyes of the devil.

I found it odd that she left me sitting on the counter. If she didn't want me to put wait on my foot, how on earth did she expect me to get off the counter and all the way to my house? Did she want me to hop on one foot? But she did, she left with a smile and told me any friend of Tory's was a free client in her book. I didn't want her charity, but I also wasn't going to pretend it wasn't a nice gesture. I was able to slide off the counter top and hop unstably out of the kitchen. Before leaving through the front door I looked at Tor, scrunched up unnaturally in the wooden chair. If it had been under any other circumstance I would have carried her to her room and tucked her in. Instead I disappeared without a word.

I found an old pair of crutches in the garage and used it to hobble around the house like a cripple. I decided sleeping on the living room couch would suit my foot better. I let Hachi out of my room and allowed her to explore the house. She couldn't move very fast, but she didn't let that stop her. As I closed my eyes and listened to the hum of the ceiling fan I got lost in thought. Surprisingly the first thought that came to mind was Dad. I almost laughed, thinking of the scene that probably played out. Dad came home, saw the note on the counter, and left happily thinking he had the weekend to himself. I had a feeling in my gut he was at the casinos or spending the weekend in a cheap hotel with a hot tub right now. He wasn't worried about his son; he didn't even feel the need to check in because a note had assured him his son would be safe with his ex-wife. Not wanting to contact each other, neither honestly cared who their son was with, or even thought to verify his location. Now for the fun part. Tom Blue comes home well rested and happy to see his son again, only surprise his son is on crutches and there's a random dog in the house.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I heard Hachilah's nails clicking against the linoleum. She had returned from her adventures around the ground floor.

"It's not much, but its home." I whispered into the darkness. I felt her soft head bump against my hand. We rested together in the darkness till my thoughts turned to dreams.

 **That chapter felt really really long to me, even though it was fairly short. I went ahead and planned out what I want to happen chapter by chapter. I did this at the very beginning of my story and wow I had to redo it because I went in a totally different direction then planned. My first set had this at under 20 chapters, the new and improved version has it closer to 30! Would you like a small preview to next chapter, or leave it a surprise like I have been doing? Let me know. Also as always please review all thoughts, suggestions, etc. Until the next chapter.**


	9. Chapter 9

**It feels like forever… I feel guilty. Whoops. Well I can offer you this chapter in forgiveness, and a promise to write more. I had forgotten how much it relaxes me to bring these characters to life with my own story. Who's excited for Trace Evidence? I sure am.**

Chapter 9: Promises Black as Ink

I don't know why I thought sleeping on the couch was a good idea. The paper-thin cushions are worthless; I might have well just slept on the floor- again. It was early Sunday morning. I was in that crucial point between awareness and sleep, just a few more minutes and I would have been dunked back under the soft waves of slumber. The shapes before my eyes danced slowly, as if they were swimming in something thick like cream or honey. Their dripping movements had me mesmerized, I was almost there, any rational thoughts I had left were gone, I was almost asleep. Emphasis on almost; a harsh pounding erupted from my front door, a dog barking blasted through my skull. And…I was awake.

Somewhere between last night and right now my black tee had wandered off. I was left shirtless with nothing more than boxers to cover my tan skin. I almost went and opened the door. No doubt it was Thickburger or Shelton wanting to do something with me. I felt a guilty stab. I had been an asshole to them recently; I had more import things on my mind. I decided to real quick slip something on. There was a line between being close friends, and being too close. I found a dirty black shirt and some solid gray pajama pants. My foot already felt better. I placed weight on it gingerly. By the time I made it to the front door the knocking had ceased. I thought about just leaving it closed when I heard a sharp bark. _Cooper?_ Hachi was at my side quickly looking up at me, and down to the closed door. I noted how much better she already looked. Hachi continued to look at me her tail wagging and her tongue out for the word to see. Her gaze practically screamed; _why haven't you opened this yet, excuse you_. Any thought that it was Hiram on my doorstep fizzled away. Although it had been a solid five minutes since the knocks had woken me up, I knew she'd still be there, waiting. She wouldn't be Tory if she wasn't. Thanking whatever higher power influenced me to put cloths on, I opened the door. _Called it._ Tory was waiting. Her arms were folded across her chest. Her hair was left down, wildly curling around her shoulders. Her arms were covered in a light gray long sleeve and her legs denim wrapped. Cooper was sitting, not so patiently at her side. Hachi was sitting at my side, practically bouncing to meet her new friend. I didn't move, and neither did Tory. So no matter how badly they wanted to sniff butts and do dog stuff, they didn't move either. Tory broke the ice, not that there was really ice to break, just the usual morning brain fog.

"What are you doing on that foot Mr.?

"Seeing what the lovely lady on my doorstep wants at like five am."

"Benjamin it's almost nine."

I sighed and just shook my head. I wasn't disagreeing with her I just needed a way to have it seem like I was responding without verbally having to respond. I noticed Cooper shift slightly closer, his tail picking up speed.

"Well Tor I'm pretty sure these dogs are about to explode. Why don't the two of you step inside?" So they did. Cooper and Hachi went nuts, barking and wagging, sniffing and licking. _Gross._ I wish it was that easy to make friends in the human world. One butt sniff or lick to the face and bam, you have a friend. An image of me sniffing Tory's butt to befriend her when she first came to Morris popped into my head. I pushed that thought away; hoping Tory didn't notice that I had choked on my coffee. At first she didn't tell me why she came over, and at first I didn't ask. We sat at my counter, I was drinking watery coffee, and she was eating one of my protein bars. It was nice. Finally without warning Tory got up and grabbed my hand.

"Well come on lazy bones, we've got daylight to burn." I didn't want to but, I didn't tell her no.

Hachi and I walked slowly; the pavement was warm from the sun, but not boiling. My bare foot enjoyed the warmth; my injured foot didn't get the chance. Tory had wrapped it in a thick cloth. Cooper, the normal ball of endless energy walked very slowly at Hachi's side. This was the first time she had been outside and even though I didn't think she was ready, Tory had scolded me for being a 'smother mother' and convinced me Hachi could use some fresh air. For some reason I didn't even consider the fact I didn't have a leash for her. It still was puzzling to me that this wild dog came into my life from a traumatic incident and yet trusts me with a bond I had only ever seen between Tory and Cooper. The only explanation I could think of was the canine DNA we shared. Tory was watching me with her wide doe like eyes. I had a feeling I had missed something, a question maybe?

"Yeah Tor?"

"Yeah what?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like… I don't know. Why were you watching me?"

Tory cocked her head like a confused puppy a smile stretching across her face.

"Ben I was mesmerized by the leftover frosting. Leaving sugar on your face like that is a recipe for acne."

My cheeks flushed, as I stopped. I couldn't wipe my face and walk with crutches at the same time. As I was busy using my sleeve as a makeshift napkin, Tory was doubled over laughing. Her long arms clutched around her waist like she was trying to hold herself together. My face burned, but I felt stupid anxious confusion as my sleeve slide freely. It didn't stick or pull up any sugary residue.  
"Victoria Grace Brennan is there frosting on my face or not?"

Whatever she was trying to say was lost between laughs. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but grin. Sometimes, every now and again I'd see this side of Tory. Since she's the youngest of us all, and the only girl she tries hard to be mature. It's nice in some cases, especially when we are throwing our lives on the lines. However this carefree bubbly Tory is so easy to love. Then again, every part of Tory is easy to love.

I pictured her sitting on Sewee, her long legs taking up the full bench. Her eyes bright and interested as she devours an advanced textbook; the ones take up half her locker. Her lips moving slightly as she tries hard to etch each sentence into her head. Tory the determined student.

Tory spread out on Hiram's carpet. Her hair spilling around her like fire; asleep and snoring slightly. A movie about aliens plays softly on the TV. Hi and Shelton are able to break away from the screen momentarily to pin the task of waking her up on me. Tory the exhausted teenager.

Tory talking so loud I can hear her from my open bedroom window, carrying a beach towel and some shades as Ella talks quickly with her hands. Laughing and joking, bumping off each other's hips in a girlish gesture. Tory the normal girl.

Tory, face set in determination as she takes on every challenge that presents itself. Tory trying to get three teenage boys to help her pick a nail polish color; as clueless as we are. Tory slipping on the dock and falling into the water. Tory the girl I love.

Tory is still laughing, her breath coming in short sobs as tears slide off her cheeks. Hachi and Cooper had settled on the grass, tails wagging watching us with interest. I consider dropping my crutches and lunging for her, just so I can hear the little yelp she does when she's startled. Instead I continue moving, as if I can leave those thoughts behind. She quickly catches up. The laughter is gone, but it's left its mark on her face. Tears cling to her eyelashes and stay halted on her high cheekbones. Her face is flushed pink.

"Oh come on Ben that was hilarious the look on your face killed me."

I don't answer; I'm not mad at her, not even close but something about her warm looking skin and still present grin makes my words lock up inside. I feel my hand reach out, my thumb moves across her skin, collecting the leftover tears. Tory stopped talking completely; the air around us has grown quiet like we are trapped inside a bubble. I was right. Her skin is still heated from her excited laughs. I want to curl my fingers in her hair and pull her close. Maybe if I was lucky I'd be able to taste the leftover salty tears on her lips. I remember Jason, pushing her down with the anger a child displays when he throws the pieces from a game he's lost. This thought causes my own anger to surface. I'll kill that blond bastard if he lays a hand on her again. I wrap my fingers back around the crutches. Choking down my anger leaves a taste bitterer than the 'cherry' throat spray my mom used when I had a cold.

"Hey we should head back Hachi needs some rest and water."

Hearing her name Hachi perked up. Cooper, oblivious, continued to sleep next to her in the grass. Tory smiled looking down at the dogs.

"Ok, I have to go into town soon anyway."

"I'll give you a ride after I get Hachi settled?"

Tory's smile faded. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit.

"Thanks Ben but I don't need a ride. Jason is…" she trailed off as I spun on my heels. The crutches made any getaway I wanted impossible. Tory whistled for Cooper, and was at my side in an instant. Feeling guilty I threw a quick glance at Hachi. She was struggling to stand, but Cooper was standing at her flank patiently. For some reason that made me feel a little better. Tory's hand was firmly clutched on my arm.

"Ben stop just listen."

"Listen to what, you tell me the play by play Jason takes to slip his tongue in your mouth, I don't want to hear it Tory." The recognizable feeling of my temper digging me in a hole I can't just climb out of sets in. I know Victoria Brennan better than I know myself, that's why it's so easy for me to hurt her. I know exactly how to hurt her, and as much as I try to stop I can't. I think there's something wrong with me. I'm like a weed in a garden, choking out Tory's chance at love. _There's something wrong with me._ I thought of Jason again. I may not know a lot, but what he feels for her isn't love. _It can't be it can't be it can't be._ Tory looked like she wanted to slap me. I wanted her to slap me. I may think I know Tory, but meeting her gaze she's not someone I recognize. Suddenly her lips curl up in a grin. It reminded me of the girls at school, the cold look before they tear you down. Seeing it on Tory was terrifying. She spoke soft. Slow.

"You know what Ben you're right. I'm so in love with Jason I can't stand the thought of being without him for more than a few minutes. I feel incomplete without his sausage hands all over me and his watermelon tongue halfway down my esophagus. And never, have I ever wanted to talk to you, to tell you how uncomfortable he makes me." She breaks off for a minute, her lips pressing in a thin line. I feel something in my stomach drop. I start to say something but she cuts me off.

"Never have I ever wanted for you to just say a few words to make me feel better, and never will I ever think I can come to you with how I really feel."

Tory leaves me standing in her wake. Her hair bouncing behind her as she walks back straight, with purpose towards our complex. She screams for Cooper, and continues her even pace until he catches up. Then she runs. Fast. I can feel a small prickle in the back of my mind telling me she's flaring. The thick feeling of my stomach lining becoming rocks and caving in on itself hasn't left. Hachi barks sharply. I didn't even notice I had started walking. I turned to see her trying desperately to keep up with me. Her eyes panicked, like I'm trying to purposely leave her. I throw up in the bushes. _You ruin everything Ben. Destroy. Worthless. Weak. Weak. Weak. Pathetic._ The walk home didn't seem to exist. One moment I'm standing in the middle of the road, the next I'm in my bathroom, door locked. I can hear Hachi growling from outside, as if she can scare the door open. My fingers feel at home locked around the box of matches. I can almost hear their cooing getting louder, like each match has a voice. A choir singing out the voices in my head. _Do it. Worthless. Weak. Do it do it._ I feel the familiar jump up my spine as I drag the match across the worn strip. I actually feel myself smile. The voices urge me like a mother coaxes a child. I feel safe. Deep down I know it's a lie, but… I don't care. _Welcome home Ben, it's been too long._

The cold porcelain of the bathtub cools me, calms me. Sweat plasters hair to my neck and forehead. I gingerly touch one of the burns. My lips curl in pain. Matches burn out easily, touching them to you skin does little damage and the sweat on your body only works against you. Cigarette burns are so much worse, they leave behind nasty scars. I wince dragging my finger across some of the singed skin. Little and temporary as they may be, they still hurt like hell. I look at the pile of blackened matches, there's a lot this time; probably around 40-50. For the first time in hours I open my bathroom door, and crawl out on shaky feet. Hachi is lying, having also not moved for hours, right in front of the door. She picks her head up from her paws and gives me a disapproving look. A stab of guilt hits my chest. I shuffle around in my desk for a tissue or something to wrap the charred sticks in. Then I see something, something I had forgotten about. My old sketchbook. I hear more voices in my head, these ones different. _Do it. Create. Create. Do it do it._ On impulse I gather up the sketchbook and all my discarded matches. I head outside. I sit in the shade on a small forgotten stump. The stump once upon a time was a peach tree, my mom's peach tree. Whether or not a 'storm' took it out is debatable but if you ask my dad and that will always be his answer. I can see Tory's backdoor from my location. The sun is setting, the sky brilliant swirls of reds and oranges. I balance the sketchbook on my thighs. Dipping the first dead match into a small cup of water I began to draw. The match only lasts a few strokes, so I make each line count. The wet charcoal makes rich black streaks across my thick paper. My lines at first had no purpose. Then features began to pop out. Petal shaped lips slightly parted. Wide doe eyes, crinkled at the corner in a smile. A delicate nose, splattered with freckles. I looked at my remaining matches, and at the face I've created. It's her face, as familiar to me as the starts in the sky. Those matches were used destruction, each given one life, to be used and thrown away. But yet here I've created something beautiful with something that had nothing left to give. _Just because you think you're broken, doesn't mean you don't fit into someone's final masterpiece. You don't need to be fixed; you need the proper chance to shine._

As the light drips out of the sky and darkness pools around me I hear a noise. It sounds like a sob. I look up to see Tory, her figure shaking as she tries to get her back door open.I look back down at my match drawing. It's more than lines on paper, it's a promise. I look up and watch Tory's figure slip into her houses shadows. _A promise to you Tory._

 **Alright everyone, what are your thoughts on the chapter? How about the thoughts on the story as a whole? There's the relationship between Tory and Jason… then there's the relationship between Ben and Tory… My heart aches for Ben right now I want to give him a hug. Any of my readers a fan of Kat? Remember her? Well if you like her you're going to be happy with the upcoming chapters. Please please please review all thoughts, opinions etc. I hope everyone's New Year is off to a good start. Till the next chapter.**


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